


Morning Star

by HardNoctLife



Series: Summer Gladnis Week 2019 - HardNoctLife [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gladnis, Gladnis Week, Love, M/M, Married Couple, Presumed Dead, Romance, Summer Gladnis Week 2019, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 05:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: Summer Gladnis Week, Day 4: "Stargazing," Adjectives: "Dreamy/Sultry"A war rages in Galahd between the Empire and Lucis, separating King Noctis's royal advisor, Ignis Scientia, from his husband, the General of the Kingsglaive. When Insomnia receives unexpected news, Ignis is left questioning his life's purpose.





	Morning Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceFlorins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceFlorins/gifts).

> This is an AU where Ignis used the ring of the Lucii to defeat the Starscourge and Noctis lived to become king. It’s also meant to be in the same universe as “Flowers for Gladiolus.”

It had been seven days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours—ten thousand and eighty minutes, give or take—Ignis had been counting.

As soon as the council meeting had adjourned the advisor rose out of his high-backed chair, long black robes with golden trim swishing at his feet as he made even strides out into the marbled hall of the Citadel.

“Head Councilman,” a man greeted, inclining his head as they passed one another. Ignis forced a smile, returning the gesture, but he didn’t slow. He had a single destination in mind and wouldn’t be deterred, even when he saw a familiar face as he stepped into the elevator.

“Hey Iggy!” Prompto Argentum greeted. The man was in his Kingsglaive fatigues, most likely on his way to the cantina.

“Hello Prompto,” Ignis replied warmly. He hit the button for the ground floor. There was a comfortable silence, but it didn’t last long. It never did with the Glaive.

“So! How’s everything in the Insomnian court, _Head_ Councilman? Anything new and exciting?” Prompto tugged at the collar of his jacket. He had never looked comfortable in his uniform, and Ignis didn’t think he ever would.

“The skirmish in Galahd has escalated. It seems the Empire is intent on strengthening their holds there despite our best efforts. The council has been debating whether to approve another deployment of Glaives, but it will require His Majesty’s approval.”

Prompto shifted nervously, eyes on the floor.

“Oh. And what does Noct think?”

Ignis sighed, the doors sliding open.

“He has deferred to me, and to the Marshal.” Prompto followed Ignis out, letting him get a few steps ahead.

Suddenly, the blond blurted: “And what about Gladio?” Ignis paused, looking over his shoulder, lips pursed.

“Hopefully, I am about to find out.”

Prompto watched as Ignis walked away, cape flaring behind him as he picked up his pace, waiting until he disappeared around a corner before releasing the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

* * *

Ignis approached the counter of the Citadel’s mailroom, eyeing the fluffy, white creature that hovered in the window. Its round red appendage bobbed over its head with every flutter of its bat-like wings, and it gave a little squeak of greeting when it saw Ignis.

“You’ve got mail, kupo!” the moogle cried excitedly, pom-pom twitching with glee. Ignis exhaled a sigh of relief as it turned to fly to his mailbox, retrieving the sealed envelope from inside. It had been browned, stained with travel, but the blocked lettering on the front was clearly printed in black ink.

GEN. AMICITIA-SCIENTIA

FORT LUZ

DAGHBA, GALAHD

SECTOR XV-III

“Thank you,” Ignis said as he took it from the attendant, fingers already breaking the eagle-head wax seal.

“My pleasure, kupo!” it replied, and Ignis moved away as he unfolded the letter held inside, smiling as his eyes scanned over the familiar handwriting.

One week since the last letter. Ignis had nearly forgotten in their world of technology what it was like to wait for a reply. It was excruciating.

_Ignis,_

_To answer your question, yes, it’s unbearably hot here. Whose bright idea was it to have a summer military campaign on an island? Oh yeah, mine._

_I say hold out on the second deployment. We are making progress and have located a nearby Imperial stronghold. Within the week we should have hopefully overtaken it, assuming everything goes well. I’ll update you in my next letter._

_In other news, I miss you. The stars are brighter out here than in the city, and I can see Carbuncle’s constellation in the west just outside the barracks’ window. Your office in the Citadel might just be high up enough for you to see it too if you try. _

_Don’t work too hard (I know you). Otherwise, I might bend you over that desk when I get back and teach you just how useful all that paperwork is that keeps you up late. _

Ignis chuckled.

_Seriously though, don’t worry. I’ll be home before you know it._

_Love,_

_Your Gladiolus _

Ignis re-read the letter once, then twice before folding it with care and tucking it inside the folds of his robes for safekeeping.

The ride up to Ignis’s office was uninterrupted, and he locked the door behind him, shrugging out of his heavier layers and tossing them over the back of his chair. Sitting down at the desk, he began to pull out stationary, grabbing a pen from the mug that sat beside a framed picture of him and Gladio on their wedding day, both beaming in their finery against a backdrop of the Citadel’s private garden.

He began to write, the furious scratching of the pen the only sound in the room.

_Gladiolus,_

_I will do as you have asked and deny the request for a deployment of the Glaives. I trust you will relay every thrilling detail of your mission to me in our next exchange. If my calculations are correct, I should be receiving word of your success shortly. Perhaps you can find time to call me on the base phone, although I know the reception is spotty at best. It would do my heart good to hear your voice._

_It seems cruel that we were wed barely a year before you were taken away from me. Even though my patience has been perfected through years of waiting, I long to hold you in my arms again. Did the Empire learn nothing during the Long Night? We have all sacrificed so much, and I give thanks everyday for the sun that rises every morning, and for your love, which has seen me through darkness more times than I care to admit._

_Tonight, I fully intend to take you up on your stargazing proposal. I will clear a space on my desk for you, in anticipation of your victorious return. We will celebrate in earnest upon your arrival._

_I look forward to your next letter._

_All my love, _

_Your Long-suffering Husband_

Satisfied, Ignis creased the paper into thirds and tucked it in a starch white envelope. For the finishing touch, he poured hot wax onto the seal, pressing it flat with ring on his finger, gifted to him by none other than King Noctis himself. The royal insignia imprinted into the golden liquid, and Ignis waited for it to dry. Once it did, he was on his feet again, returning it to the mail room where it would be carried halfway across the world to be placed in the hands of the man he loved.

* * *

That evening, when Ignis had finally answered every email and stamped each royal decree set in front of him, he pushed his stack of papers aside and turned off all the lights, throwing open the blinds of the window that took up a large portion of his office wall.

It was a clear summer night, and the Insomnian city skyline sprawled before him, the glow from the buildings creating a white-gold haze that permeated through the air. Just above it was a band of deep blue the stretched endlessly upwards. Within its depths there hung a fingernail sliver of a moon surrounded by thousands of twinkling stars—silver flecks splattered across a dark canvas.

Ignis had never taken the time to look out his window until now, his head usually shoved in a mountain of paperwork.

Now, he located Carbuncle, the constellation nestled between Ramuh’s rod and Eos’s bosom. He closed his eyes, picturing Gladio leaning against a windowsill in his uniform—shirtless, Ignis amended—staring up at the same sky, hundreds of miles away.

Ignis’s throat grew tight.

He lingered there, dreams and wishes anchoring him amidst the storm of emotions that raged in his heart.

* * *

Ignis had walked into the throne room, intent on telling the king his decision to not send more Glaives to Fort Luz. He stopped to bow, as was custom, and lifted his head to find Noctis’s eyes following him, mouth set in a thin line. His frown was severe, expression somber.

The advisor’s heart jumped, jamming against his sternum.

“I just received word that Fort Luz was attacked during the Glaive’s raid on the Imperial base in Galahd.”

Stunned, the papers in Ignis’s hand slipped from his fingers, scattering in a flurry across the marble floor. Everything else faded away, swallowed by the black hole that the advisor found himself falling into.

He was certain Noctis said something else. It was placating, soft.

Ignis didn’t care.

There was a ringing in the man’s ears. The throne room was silent like the calm before a storm.

He raised his head, jaw clenched, voice raw.

“Your Majesty, deploy the Glaive.”

* * *

“I’m sorry councilman, but we haven’t been able to secure a connection,” the Glaive apologized. Ignis’s white-knuckled fists unfurled, then clenched again.

“Try once more,” the advisor urged. The man standing behind the counter in the Communication’s office of the Citadel’s barracks fixed Ignis with a look of pity. He picked up the phone and dialed the connection for Fort Luz.

Even though Ignis could hear the busy signal from where he stood, he hoped and prayed it would begin to ring. He waited, staring down the Glaive expectantly. After a minute without any success, the solider reluctantly returned the phone to its cradle.

“My apologies, sir.”

It wasn’t the young man’s fault, yet Ignis had to fight the urge to jump across the space and shake him. 

He forced a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

Ignis strode away, shoulders bunched around his ears, a pressure in his chest that he couldn’t put a name to.

* * *

That night in Ignis’s office, the advisor tried to distract himself with work, but after re-reading the same email multiple times without processing the message, he shut his laptop. His eyes fell on the picture frame nearby, frozen smiles taunting him. He turned it away so he couldn’t see it.

Head falling back, Ignis exhaled. A stone had been sitting in his stomach and he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but the man found he wasn’t hungry.

Anytime he had a free moment, he would check to see if any news had come in. The response was always the same.

_No, Head Councilman, nothing yet._

Reluctant to return home to an empty bed that he knew he wouldn’t sleep in, Ignis idly approached the window and drew up the blinds for a second night in a row.

It was unfair how beautiful an evening it was, the stars even brighter than before in the absence of a moon to outshine them.

His eyes fell on Carbuncle’s constellation, and he offered a silent prayer.

_Please—be safe. _

* * *

When the phone rang, it was like a baby crying in the night, shrill and indignant. Ignis jolted awake, having only recently fallen asleep. He’d been tossing and turning for hours. It was late—or early, depending on how you looked at it—and he swallowed down the fears that threatened to choke him.

No good news came at this hour.

Yet, any news was better than none, and Ignis bolted out of bed without turning on the light, reaching to answer it.

“Hello?”

There was static on the other end of the line, and he strained to listen, repeating the greeting several times.

“Can you hear me?”

“Ig—s—” There was a crackle of syllables, and Ignis’s pulse began to pound in his temples, anxiety making him nauseated.

“Gladio? _Gladio_, is that you?”

The static continued, but Ignis remained on the line, waiting.

He would wait forever if necessary.

When the line cut out, he sat holding the phone to his ear. It was quiet for a long time, broken minutes later by the sound of the man’s sobs.

* * *

A letter came two days later. It was the last letter Ignis would receive from his husband.

Ignis cradled the envelope to his chest as if it were a priceless treasure and waited until he reached his office to read it. He didn’t entirely trust himself to not have a break down in front of the mailroom.

Seeing Gladio’s scratchy script brought Ignis to tears, and he took one shuddering breath before beginning to read.

_Ignis, _

_Tomorrow is the big day. We will set out tonight to try and overtake the Imperial base and set up camp, attacking at sundown. I know how you worry, but DON’T. We’ve got this. Once the Niffs are overrun, we’ll get out of this hellhole and I’ll get to come home to you. I can hardly wait. _

_Did you look at the stars like I told you to? I’m sure His Royal Pain in the Ass is keeping you busy as usual, but you tell His Majesty not to run you ragged before I can get ahold of you. _

Ignis wiped at the tears that were now flowing freely down his face, one hand resting over his mouth to stifle a cry.

_I’ll send word as soon as we return safely to Fort Luz, and maybe try and give you a call. Fuck this shitty reception. All I want is to hear you whisper my name in that sexy accent of yours. You know, in that way you do. _

_All right, all right, can’t get too excited. I’ll save that for when we’re face-to-face. _

_Just know that you hold my whole heart and thoughts in every waking moment. Until we are together again, I’ll be looking at the sky and dreaming of you._

_Love,_

_Your Gladiolus _

Ignis, paper crinkling in his hand, pressed his forehead to his desk and wept.

* * *

Later that week, a platoon of Kingsglaive was deployed to Galahd via airship. Ignis received no more phone calls, and no letters. The Citadel continued to struggle with establishing a secure line of communication to the foreign islands. Later, they would learn of the channel blockers employed by the Empire to scatter phone service and electrical signals. 

While they awaited word of the platoon’s arrival and the fate of Fort Luz, Ignis watched the heavens.

He looked, but mostly, he prayed.

If Ignis thought that waiting was excruciating before, the next five days were torture.

He became a shell of himself, gaunt and pale, not eating and barely sleeping, and the councilman’s work started to pile up, untouched on the corner of his desk.

It was one afternoon when he was fighting off a throbbing headache that Ignis heard a soft knock at his office door. He looked up to see Prompto poke his head in.

“Heya, Iggy.”

Ignis straightened, not bothering to smile. Prompto looked unsure, unable to meet his friend’s gaze as he shifted his weight from left to right.

“Noct sent me to come get you.”

“His Majesty has my number,” Ignis replied, tone clipped. Prompto winced and rubbed the back of his neck. The advisor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We know you’re stressed.” Prompto gave the smallest of smiles. “He’s in the dining hall.”

With a nod, Ignis rose with as much grace as he could muster and followed Prompto out of the room.

They arrived to find the king sitting alone at the head of long table, plates piled high with food at the settings to either side of him. He motioned wordlessly for Ignis and Prompto to sit, and they did, Ignis with more trepidation than his companion.

“Eat,” the king bade, skipping a greeting entirely.

“I’m not—”

“Ignis,” Noctis interrupted, leveling his advisor with his storm-cloud eyes. His friend met them, quieting. “It wasn’t a request.” Prompto was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. Noctis went on. “If Gladio were here—”

“Don’t.” The word was quiet and pleading. The king stopped. Bowing his head, Ignis picked up his fork, spearing a steaming vegetable. Without another word, he sullenly did as he was told. Prompto’s shoulders depressed, now free of the invisible weight they had been carrying.

There was the scraping of a knife and fork on a plate, the two studying the advisor without speaking.

“It needs more salt.” Ignis directed his comment at Noctis after taking a few more bites.

A smile flickered across Noctis’s face and was gone.

* * *

Ignis was in a council meeting when the news broke. It had been nearly a month since Gladio’s final letter, yet for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to stop walking to the mailroom. Every time, the moogle said the same thing.

_Sorry, you don’t have any mail today, kupo!_

The topic had turned to mundane things. Whether to raise taxes, or maybe it had been whether they would increase tariffs on imports—he wasn’t really sure. When the Glaive interrupted the meeting without warning, all eyes turned to him, bodies sliding to the edges of their seats in anticipation. Ignis half-stood.

All it took was one look at Prompto’s face for his heart to drop through his stomach and onto the floor, shattering.

“Your Majesty, forgive the interruption.”

Ignis had _never _heard Prompto say ‘Your Majesty.’

“What is it?” Noctis asked.

“We’ve received word from Galahd. Fort Luz is—it’s _gone_, sir.”

Ignis felt himself sway, vision blurring. The last thing he saw was Prompto’s face as it crumpled in on itself, a breath away from bursting into tears.

* * *

“Ignis…?”

_No. I don’t want to wake up. Not if it means he’s not here._

“Ignis?” the tone was more insistent now, the advisor’s eyelids fluttering. He had never been able to refuse Noctis, as much as he sometimes tried. It simply wasn’t in his nature. 

Opening his eyes, Ignis took in the sterile white walls and medical equipment he found himself surrounded by, sinking into the bed of the Citadel’s infirmary. He belatedly realized that the king was holding his hand.

“Your Majesty, please forgive me.” Ignis was sitting up, but Noctis shook his head, reaching out his arm to prevent the councilman from doing so.

“There’s no need to apologize. Just rest for now.”

Ignis remembered then what he wished he could forget, and he felt such a sharp pain in his chest that he caved backwards, his entire body convulsing in rejection of a truth he couldn’t accept. 

_Gladiolus is gone. _

Noctis’s hand squeezed his, but Ignis couldn’t feel it. He felt nothing except a terrible emptiness.

“I have some business to attend to, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Noctis left, and Ignis was alone—more alone than he had ever been in his entire life.

* * *

The Kingsglaive returned to Insomnia several weeks later after a full retreat was issued by the king. With their base of operations destroyed, Galahd was left at the Empire’s mercy.

Lucis cut its losses.

Ignis stood at Noctis’s side in the harbor and watched as soldiers in uniform embraced their loved ones, husbands and wives sharing kisses, children swept up in their parent’s arms. The sun made the ocean look like it was on fire, the sky brilliantly blue. There were smiles, and laughter. Everyone was relieved to see their family members returned safely home.

Ignis should have been among them.

He ignored the look he saw Noctis give him out of the corner of his eye and stared straight ahead, body tensed as if to run.

He didn’t run though. Instead, he looked westward and thought how ironic it was that stars were only visible in the darkness of night.

The light had gone out of his life, and yet, there were no stars to speak of.

* * *

Days passed. Summer ended, replaced by fall’s cold chill.

Ignis went through his daily routine, but even going through the motions wasn’t enough to tear him free of his paralyzing agony. From the moment he woke up to the time he went to sleep, his mind was shrouded in a haze of numbing disinterest. If not for Prompto and Noctis’s efforts, he would have never left his room, the desire to hide under the covers and ignore all of his duties almost too strong to resist.

After a month of going through the motions, Noctis called him into the throne room.

It was a cold and rainy afternoon, and the Citadel was shades of gray. Ignis thought it suited him just fine.

“I’m sending you and Prompto on an errand.”

Ignis gave a slow blink. The king was resting his chin in his hand, leaning to one side of the ornate chair. He looked tired.

“You two will go to Furloch Farms in Cleigne to supervise the transport of a large shipment of crops back to Insomnia and to negotiate prices for future orders. It might take a few weeks.”

Again, it wasn’t a suggestion.

It didn’t take long for Ignis to piece together the hidden agenda behind Noctis’s words. He was sending him away, and it wasn’t difficult to see why. It wasn’t like the advisor was useful to anyone—not anymore. A couple months prior, Ignis would have pointed out the obvious flaws in Noctis’s plans, or insist that he was needed in the capital, but not now. 

He placed his fist over his hollow heart and bowed.

“As His Majesty commands.”

* * *

The trip into Cleigne from Insomnia was slow going, and it gave Ignis time to think. Too much time. Prompto filled the gaps with conversation, not seeming to mind when Ignis didn’t respond. They sat in the back of the military rig as it bumbled down the road and watched the countryside roll by.

“The air is so _clean_ out here compared to the city. I almost forgot what it was like! Hey, you remember that time when…” Prompto gushed over memories that seemed distant and faded now in comparison, when it was just the four of them traveling in the Regalia, the fate of the world thrust into their hands. A time when they could achieve anything, so long as they were together. They had all been young and idealistic then, believing they could save the world.

Ignis wondered if he would have sacrificed as much as he had if he knew then what he did now.

Prompto changed the subject when he saw the advisor grow distant.

“You know, as strange as it sounds, I can’t wait to get to Cleigne. Sleep under the stars, just like old times.”

Ignis looked away, and the conversation died.

* * *

Prompto graciously handled all of the talking when they finally arrived at Furloch Farms. He was charismatic and friendly, and was instantly swept away by the proprietor to tour the grounds on behalf of their retinue. Ignis hung back to ensure those they had traveled with got settled, Glaives shoved into small rooms typically reserved for farm hands.

He opted to pitch a tent in one of the fields, away from everyone else.

It was a tight squeeze for their company when dinner was served in the house that sat at the back of the property, but they all somehow managed to fit at the long table, rubbing elbows and shoulders as they were treated to a homecooked meal. Ignis ate out of politeness, and was pleasantly surprised by the rich taste of the food, fresh ingredients evoking vivid imagery of eating around a campfire.

_I’ll taste test for ya, Iggy. _

Ignis set his spoon down, appetite lost, and excused himself before the others had finished eating.

* * *

The stars were as awe inspiring as Prompto surmised, and Ignis hurried into his tent, wide awake with his soul aching.

He wondered how much longer he could continue living with the ghost of Gladio in everything he saw and touched. It was a miserable existence, more terrifying than when he had used the Ring of the Lucii to overcome the Scourge and subvert Noctis’s fate. The advisor twirled the same ring on his finger now and prayed to the Kings of Lucis for guidance.

There was no answer.

An hour dragged, and Ignis resigned himself to another sleepless evening, unzipping his tent flap.

He sat up. Crickets and toads sang a lullaby that did nothing to soothe him. Amidst the sea of stars, fireflies danced.

In the quiet, Ignis _felt_ more than heard the approach of footsteps, hair standing on end. A shadow of a man loomed, outlined by moonlight.

The councilman stiffened, not expecting any visitors, and not in the mood to entertain.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until morning,” he scoffed as the stranger drew closer.

“It really can’t,” came the deep bass tone. A firefly’s body illuminated a scarred face, caramel eyes reflecting the lights overhead.

Ignis’s breath caught, wedged in his lungs and compressing his heart with a vice grip.

He never knew the gods could be so cruel. That, or he had fallen into a dream, unaware of sleep’s submersion. Either way, seeing the familiar man’s visage was like tearing off the scab on a barely healed wound, hemorrhaging feelings he had tightly contained.

Frozen, Ignis watched as the apparition made its way to stand in front of him. Part of him wanted to believe this was a sign of the Astrals’ mercy, but he knew that the kindness would be short lived. Come morning, the sun would lay everything bare, serving as a reminder of Ignis’s harsh reality.

He closed his eyes, willing the dream to end, and felt two strong hands cup his face, searing him more intensely than Ifrit’s fire.

“Ignis.”

“You’re not real,” he cried, and the man found he couldn’t stop the tears.

“Look at me.”

Gasping, Ignis did. Framed by heaven’s glow, Gladiolus Amicitia smiled, conveying more than words could say. Regret—and pain—but most of all, love.

“How?” Ignis whispered it now, still in shock. He was afraid that if he blinked, Gladio would disappear forever—for good. “Fort Luz was razed to the ground, and the Imperial base still stands in Galahd.” Gladio kneeled, hands continuing to serve as book ends for his husband’s face.

“I was out with my men when the attack happened. We went back to the fort to try and save who we could, but by then it was too late. We were forced into hiding—Niffs were everywhere. I tried to call you, but...”

Ignis remembered the one night that his phone rang after hearing the news.

“You—you’re here. You’re alive?” Ignis still wasn’t sure, voice trembling with barely contained hysteria.

“I’m here.” It was spoken with conviction, grounding them both. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The sobs pierced the night as Gladio enfolded Ignis in his strong arms, holding him tight like he would never let go. They remained that way, Gladio kissing away every tear that fell, whispering affirmations.

“I thought you had died.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to live.”

“I came as quickly as I could.”

Ignis’s nails dug into the Shield’s skin, but Gladio embraced the discomfort. It couldn’t compare to the torment of the past several weeks.

“I arrived in Insomnia shortly after you left. Noctis looked like he had seen a ghost,” Gladio chuckled.

They laid side by side in the grass, fingers interlaced, the stars serving as their blanket. Ignis rested his head on Gladio’s chest to listen to his heartbeat, proof that he was flesh and blood and not a figment of his imagination.

“Oh look! A shooting star. Make a wish,” Gladio said it lightly, squeezing Ignis’s hand. Turning his head, the advisor stared into his husband’s eyes, overcome with emotion.

“I wish that you would never leave my side again, for as long as we both shall live.” Gladio looked momentarily surprised, then serious. He faced Ignis fully, bringing their foreheads together to kiss him, smudging the man’s glasses in the process.

Ignis didn’t mind.

“I swear to you on every star in the sky, and on both of our names—”

“No,” Ignis interrupted, laughing. The sound was strange to him now, but all the more pleasant for its long absence. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Gladiolus. I know you.” Gladio sighed, looking sheepish.

“Then, not until we’re both ready—and His Majesty will just have to deal with it.” Ignis nodded, finding the compromise acceptable.

Gladiolus Amicitia always kept his promises.

Ignis settled back into his place at Gladio’s side, where he would stay for the remainder of their days.

When the dawn came and the King’s Shield was still there, Ignis felt the atrophied muscles of his face form a crooked smile. It was his husband’s giddy laughter that made the general stir.

“What’s so funny?” he croaked, throwing a bare arm around his love’s naked waist. The sunlight was just beginning to brighten the walls of the tent. 

“Stars do shine in the daytime.” Gladio cocked one eyebrow at the cryptic statement, but didn’t question it. Ignis flopped against the soldier’s sculpted abdomen with a satisfied noise.

“Just a little longer,” the advisor murmured. There was a chuckle of agreement.

“For you? Forever.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This author responds to all comments! You can also talk to me directly on Tumblr (hard-noct-life) and Twitter (@hardnoctlife)
> 
> Art is by the amazing AceFlorins (@aceflorins Tumblr/Twitter)


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